


After School Special

by linksofmemories



Series: The Rory to My Amy [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linksofmemories/pseuds/linksofmemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Because I’ve always loved you.”</p><p>As if on cue, the song that was playing ended and Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” started playing. Boyd turned around to see Stiles giving him a thumbs up.</p><p>That sneaky little bastard.</p><p>“Took you long enough,” Erica said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After School Special

This was probably going to take a while.

Actually this was probably going to take more than a while considering how the conversation was going. It was a back and forth between McHale and Stilinski and it really didn’t seem like it was going to end anytime soon.

“Scott, I’m not going,” Stilinski said.

“Why not?” McHale asked. “What else do you have to do on a Saturday night?”

“I’m going over to Derek and Laura’s.”

McHale made a face. “Why?”

“Uh, to watch the new _Doctor Who_ episode with Derek,” Stilinski said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Y’know, like I’ve done for the past three Saturdays.”

“C’mon, Stiles, Derek can live without you for one night,” McHale said. “This is the third time Lydia and Jackson have broken up and she’s actually agreeing to go on a date-”

“-A _double_ date-”

“-With you!” McHale said. “You can totally win her over, man. I get that you’re nervous-”

“-I’m not nervous, I just don’t want-”

“-But, I’ve seen you talk your way through everything. You’re bound to say something-”

“-Scott, I don’t want to go on a double date with Lydia-”

“-Interesting and you can two can start talking and there’s no way she won’t-”

“-Dammit, Scott, you’re not even listening to me-”

“-Like you because, dude, you’re awesome and-.”

“Do you guys want the keys or not?” Boyd cut in, feeling a headache coming on. Did these two ever stop talking?

They turned to look at him and then back at each other.

“We’re taking them,” McHale said defiantly.

“Yeah, you can take them for you and Allison, but I’m not going,” Stilinski said.

“I don’t get it,” McHale said. “Ever since we met you’ve claimed to be in love with Lydia and now you don’t want to go on a date with her? What’s up, man?”

And now it was best friend therapy time. Boyd popped a chip into his mouth before turning back to his Chemistry notes, the ice rink keys sitting on the table in front of him.

“I don’t…” Stilinski trailed off. “I’m just really looking forward to the new episode and-.”

“You can record the episode or watch it online later,” McHale said.

“But I like…”

Boyd looked up to see Stilinski blushing. Great. Now he was going to be subjected to other people’s drama.

“I like watching the episodes with Derek,” Stilinski shrugged.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” McHale said. “You’d rather watch some lame show with my older brother, then hang out with me and go on a date with Lydia Martin? Are you feeling all right?”

“Scott, can you remember all of those years ago when Derek used to drive us home and we watched _Torchwood_ and _Doctor Who_ together?”

“Yeah, but I thought you would grow out of it,” McHale said. “Derek was old enough for it to not change, but I thought you would get over it.”

It sounded like it had more to do with this Derek guy than the actual show. Boyd kept his mouth shut though. It wasn’t his problem.

“Well, I still really love the show and I want to watch it with Derek,” Stilinski said. “And we just started talking again a few months ago and… and why mess with something that’s good, right?”

That made sense to Boyd.

“But it’s _Derek_.”

“Yes, Scott, I know,” Stilinski sighed. “Just because you don’t like spending time with your brother doesn’t mean other people don’t. Derek’s really awesome. We’re… friends. Just… friends.”

Stilinski looked really sad at the “friend” remark. It was obvious what was going on. McHale didn’t seem to get it though.

“But you’re in love with Lydia,” McHale said.

“I’m terrible at ice-skating.”

“No you’re not. I’ve seen you ice-skate before. You’ve never fallen over.”

“Tomorrow might change that.”

“C’mon, Stiles, give me a real reason-.”

“Are you taking the keys or not?” Boyd asked again.

“Yes,” Stilinski said, grabbing his wallet and taking out a couple of bills. He grabbed the keys from the table and shoved them at McHale. “Here, have fun with Allison. I’m eating lunch with Boyd.”

Oh no he wasn’t.

“We’re talking about this after lunch,” McHale said, walking toward the other side of the cafeteria.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stilinski said under his breath, putting his backpack on the table and sitting down across from Boyd. “So, that Chemistry final is going to be a bitch, right?”

“Seems that way,” Boyd sighed, taking the money Stilinski had thrown down on the table. “So, why don’t you just tell McHale that you’re in love with his brother?”

Stilinski flailed so much that he almost fell out of his chair. Boyd wasn’t surprised. He ate another chip.

“Wh-What?” he asked, putting on a fake grin. “Boyd, that’s _crazy_. Me and Derek? Ha… ha. Oh God, is it that obvious? Scott’s an idiot, but I thought he would get it by now.”

“I don’t even know the guy, but just by that conversation I can tell that you like him.”

“Aw, crap,” Stilinski mumbled, pressing his forehead against the top of the lunch table.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Stilinski looked up, resting his chin on the table now. “Thanks man.”

“Sure, but I said 50.”

“What?”

“The money for the keys?” Boyd said, holding up the two 10 dollar bills Stilinski had given him. “I said 50.”

“Really? I remember 20. I don’t know, I’ve got a _really_ good verbal memory and I remember 20. I remember that distinctive ‘twuh’ sound. _Twuuuhn_ ty.”

“I said 50. With a ‘fuh’ sound. Hear the difference? If you can’t, I can demonstrate some other words with a ‘fuh’ sound.”

“Oh, no no no, I think I’m recalling it now. Maybe I just got it confused with _fooorty.”_

He put a 20 dollar bill down on the table. Boyd showed that he was not amused by giving Stilinski a blank stare and eating another chip.

“Oh come on man,” Stilinski sighed. “Have you seen the piece of crap Jeep that I drive?”

“Have you seen the piece of crap bus that I take?”

“Did you not hear the conversation I just had?” Stilinski asked. “I’m not even going. I’m just doing this for my best friend.”

“Then get McHale to pay. He has a job, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, but he’s saving up to…” Stilinski looked around the cafeteria before leaning across the table. “He’s saving up to buy Allison an engagement ring.”

“We’re sophomores.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Then get Allison to pay.”

“That… is actually a good idea,” Stilinski said, looking behind to where Allison and McHale were currently sucking face. “But I _really_ don’t want to go over there right now.”

“Sounds like you have a dilemma,” Boyd said, grinning at Stilinski.

Stilinski groaned, reaching into his pocket again before he looked at Boyd and smirked. “Make it 40 and I won’t tell Erica about that huge crush you have on her.”

That sneaky little bastard.

“How ‘bout 45 and I won’t tell McHale that you like his brother.”

“Oh, you’re good,” Stilinski said, putting a five dollar bill on the table.

Boyd grabbed the money and then handed him the keys. Stilinski took them and then continued to sit at the table, looking over his shoulder and grimacing at Allison and McHale who were still going at it.

“You can stay here,” Boyd sighed, looking back to his Chemistry textbook. “It’s not like anyone sits here anyway.”

“Thanks man,” Stilinski said. “So, uh, do you think you could give me some sample problems for balancing equations? I need to practice.”

That worked. Boyd had to work on those as well.

**OoOoOoO**

“Remind me why we’re doing this the night before again?” Boyd asked, flipping through _Beloved_ and trying to find the passage Stiles was talking about. He said it was highlighted green. Almost everything was highlighted in green.

“Well, the only day you were free was on Wednesday and I wasn’t free on Wednesday,” Stiles shrugged.

“Yeah, because you were with your boyfriend _all day_.”

“It was his birthday,” Stiles said defensively. “Of course I wanted to spend my boyfriend’s birthday with him. And I got the essay part of the project done. Now we just have to focus on the PowerPoint.”

“And the ‘creative aspect’,” Boyd included. “This was so much easier for _White Noise_.”

“I know, right?” Stiles nodded, looking up from his laptop. “Derek actually thinks that _Beloved_ is better.”

“Well, _Beloved_ is a better book,” Boyd said. “The _White Noise_ project was just easier.”

Stiles just shook his head. “I’ve already had this conversation with Derek, I’m not having it with you.”

“He won, didn’t he?”

“It was his birthday, I let him win,” Stiles said. “I even pretended that I had no idea what a good symbol would be in the book and he gave me one.”

“What’d he say?”

“He gave a really convincing argument for the river,” Stiles said. “I might actually use a bit, but I like the symbol of Paul D. and Baby Suggs as Christ figures better.”

Boyd had never even met Derek before, but he had seen him around town and had heard stories about him from Stiles during lunch.

It had been the end of sophomore year when Stiles had appointed himself as Boyd’s permanent lunch buddy and now they were in their first semester of senior year. At first they were just cramming for finals in sophomore year, but in junior year they actually started talking and working on projects together. They were both in AP English for both junior and senior years, so they always worked together on projects.

During the times when they weren’t working on presentations or writing eight page papers or doing reading journals, they would just _talk_. Boyd found out that Stiles wanted to teach Kindergarten as well and played World of Warcraft and was still unfortunately a virgin (something that Boyd didn’t want to know, but Stiles was in a ranting mood and Boyd wasn’t going to even try to stop him).

So, yeah, they were kind of friends. They only hanged out outside of school to work on projects, but they were both busy with other stuff. Stiles had a boyfriend that he was clearly crazy about and Boyd had had a girlfriend (Monica, a year younger and incredibly sweet), but they had broken up when she saw that he still liked Erica.

“Remember that project we did last year on _The Road_?” Stiles asked, a dreamy smile appearing on his face. “Man that was badass.”

Boyd remembered. It had been a 200 point project and Mr. Rhinehart had given them 210 points.

“Relating the post-apocalyptic world to Plato’s ‘Allegory of the Cave’ and getting there early to set up the classroom to actually look like a cave?” Boyd reminisced. “Those were the days.”

They were also very enthusiastic about pieces of literature with literary merit.

“Do you ever think that we’re wasting it?” Stiles asked. “I mean, we’re going to teach five year-olds how to do basic adding and subtracting and the Dreidel Song.”

“The Dreidel Song?”

“Dude, you totally know what I’m talking about,” Stiles said, putting the laptop aside. “ _I have a little dreidel. I made it out of clay_ -.”

“- _And when it’s dry and ready, then dreidel I shall play_ ,” Boyd finished.

“Exactly!” Stiles said. “And Feliz Navidad and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman and are there any Kwanzaa songs? I forgot.”

Before Boyd could tell Stiles that there were in fact Kwanzaa songs, the door to his bedroom opened and his mom was standing there with her hands on her hips. This wasn’t going to be good.

“Boys, it’s 11 o’clock at night on a Sunday,” she said. “Do you think you could keep the noise down?”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Boyd.”

“Are you two finishing up?” she asked. “It’s late and I don’t want Stiles driving so late at night.”

“Uh, we’ve got a long way to go,” Boyd said, looking over Stiles’ shoulder at the one completed slide on their PowerPoint. It was the title page with their names and no title since they didn’t have a title to their project yet. The slide did look nicely decorative though. “A very long way to go.”

His mom sighed, shaking her head at them. “Why don’t you two bring this downstairs to the kitchen and I’ll make you some coffee… and a snack? Goodness, Stiles have you gotten even skinnier?”

“No,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “I just need to be lean for track.”

“You say lean, I say skinny,” she said. “Now, c’mon, and be quiet. I don’t want to wake up the entire house.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stiles said, stuffing his laptop and notebooks into his backpack and following Boyd’s mom out of the room.

Boyd grabbed a few things of his own before making his way out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

When they got to the kitchen his mom started making the coffee while Stiles and Boyd sat at the kitchen table. Stiles opened his laptop up and opened up their PowerPoint again.

“Do you think we’re wasting it though?” he asked. “Becoming teachers when we’re both so good at this?”

“I don’t know, man,” Boyd shrugged. “I just know that I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. I’m good at English, but I don’t want to be an essayist or an English professor or a writer.”

“Yeah, but it kind of just feels like a waste,” Stiles said, picking up _Beloved_ and idly flipping through it.

“You sound just like your mother,” Boyd’s mom said.

Stiles looked over at her quickly, eyes wide. “You knew my mom?”

“Oh, honey, everyone who went to Beacon Hills High when we went to school knew your mother,” she said, smiling. “We weren’t exactly close, not like you and Vernon, but we talked. I remember her giving a 40 minute presentation in French about how getting kicked in the balls didn’t even being to compare to having a period.”

“My mom was so badass.”

“Language.”

“My mom was so cool.”

“Aria was great at French, but she was perfect when it came to History,” she said. “She remembered exact dates and the spellings of everyone’s names and the obscure facts that weren’t even in our textbooks. All of our History teachers were so excited for her to go on and become a famous historian. But she did what she loved and went to Rhode Island for art and then came back and married your father.”

“So, you’re saying that she let a lot of people down by doing what she loved?”

“Yes, but she didn’t let herself down.”

Boyd looked from his mother to Stiles just in time to see him quickly wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his plaid shirt. Boyd didn’t bring it up.

**OoOoOoO**

Prom officially sucked. It was at a fancy country club and everyone looked like they were having a great time in their dresses and tuxes. Boyd was the DJ though and he had request after request coming at him. He couldn’t get a date, so he had agreed to take over DJ duties.

He was beginning to wonder if staying home would have been a better choice. A slow song was playing (it was Taylor Swift and that was all Boyd knew) and all of the couples were just spinning in circles on the floor.

McHale and Allison were off to the side with their foreheads pressed together and smiling at each other. They were just as nauseating as they were sophomore year. Allison looked pretty in her purple dress though and Boyd knew for a fact that McHale was planning on proposing on graduation night. He had a feeling that she would say yes.

Whittemore and Lydia (who had been crowned King and Queen just a few songs ago) were dancing in the middle of the floor. Lydia looked predictably gorgeous in her green dress, but she also looked content and happy with her head against Jackson’s chest. Boyd was surprised that their superficial relationship had actually turned into something more.

Stiles and Erica were sitting at one of the tables, having a heated conversation. Boyd didn’t know what it was about, but they both seemed to be pretty into it. He couldn’t let his mind focus on that too much though, he was too busy focusing on how beautiful Erica looked in her white dress.

She had always been beautiful, but tonight was just ridiculous. Her acne had cleared up over the years and due to different medication her epilepsy wasn’t as much as a problem. (It would always be a problem, but it wasn’t such a huge hindrance for her anymore.) Her blonde hair was in curls and piled on top of her head and she just looked really radiant and beautiful.

Stiles had asked him if it was okay for him to accept Erica’s prom proposal to him. He assured Boyd that it was just as friends and that he had absolutely zero intentions of doing anything but eating food and dancing like idiots. Boyd had tried to play it off that he didn’t care, but he knew that Stiles could tell that he actually did care.

He just noticed things like that and he must have noticed Boyd staring because he was walking toward him now.

“Dude, ask her to dance,” Stiles said, leaning against the table in front of Boyd.

“What?”

“Ask my date to dance with you,” Stiles said. “I can take over DJ duties.”

“Why would I want to ask Erica to-?”

“Shut up, man.”

Boyd raised an eyebrow at that. “Excuse me?”

“Shut up,” Stiles repeated. “I get that you like her. I get that you’ve liked her forever. Trust me, no one gets it more than I do. So, go and ask her to dance, because this is our senior prom and you’re running out of chances.”

“We’re going to the same college,” Boyd pointed out.

“And what good is that going to do?” Stiles asked. “What good is more waiting going to do? If you like her, then go get her. Stop making her wait for you because one day she’s just going to leave and- and- never look back and-.”

“Are you still talking about me and Erica, or are you talking about you and De-?”

“Just ask her to dance,” Stiles pressed. “I’ve been a shitty date and she deserves a good prom.”

A good friend would have stayed with Stiles and talked to him about what was up with him and Derek.

Boyd and Stiles had really never been that close though.

“Okay, fine,” Boyd said, stepping down from the DJ platform. “Are you sure you want to DJ though? I can just set up a playlist if you want to dance.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles shrugged. “There’s no one here that I want to dance with anyway.”

Boyd nodded, not pushing the subject. He made his way to the table where Erica was sitting, looking down at she messed with the silver belt on her dress. The closer he got the more beautiful she looked and Boyd was more than tempted to go back to the stage and get Stiles to go back to her.

She looked up though and their eyes met and Stiles was right. He should stop running. He was tired of just sitting with her at lunch or passing notes in class or catching her eye in the hallway or dating other girls who weren’t her.

“Hey,” she said, looking up at him.

And now he was standing in front of her table, looking down at her as she sat in her chair.

“Hi,” he said.

“Um, so Stiles is DJ-ing now?”

“Yeah,” Boyd shrugged. “He said that I should dance with you.”

“Why would he say that?”

“Because I’ve always loved you.”

As if on cue, the song that was playing ended and Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” started playing. Boyd turned around to see Stiles giving him a thumbs up.

That sneaky little bastard.

“Took you long enough,” Erica said.

Boyd brought his attention back to her. She was standing now and smiling at him.

“Do you want to dance with me?” she asked.

“I’d love to,” he said.

He took her hand and she led him onto the dance floor, weaving between swaying couples. She reached up and wound her arms around his neck and he placed his hands on her waist.

“What were you and Stiles talking about?” he asked. “It seemed pretty heated.”

“Comic books,” she shrugged. “We’re both fans.”

“Marvel or DC?”

“DC.”

“I don’t think we can be friends,” Boyd said, shaking her head.

“Well then it’s a good thing I don’t want to be your friend,” she said, smiling at him.

He loved her smile. Hell, he loved everything about her.

“Y’know I used to have the worst crush on Stiles.”

And that was definitely not what he wanted to hear. At all.

“I thought that I actually had a chance,” she said. “He was in love with Lydia Martin and there was no way that was going to work out. I was sure that he would get over her, but then I found out that he wasn’t in love with her at all.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

“Because you’re the one who made me realize that,” she said. “At lunch back in sophomore year? I was a bit of an eavesdropper and I overheard when Stiles was paying you for the ice rink keys and you said he was in love with Scott’s brother. And he said that you liked me.”

Boyd was going to kill Stiles.

“I started paying more attention to you and I realized that no one had ever looked at me like how you looked at me,” she said. “No one ever saw me.”

“I saw you.”

“Yeah, you saw me.”

She leaned up and he leaned down and after an awkward nose-smoosh, they were kissing.

“All right, ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for Boyd and Erica!”

They broke apart and looked around to see everyone smiling and clapping at them (well, not everyone, but most were). Stiles was standing on the stage with a microphone in his hand and a smug grin on his face.

Boyd shook his head at him. Stiles just shrugged.

**OoOoOoO**

“Nervous?” Boyd asked, getting out of the car.

“No,” Erica said, grabbing her graduation robe from the backseat before getting out of the passenger’s side.

He took her hand in his as they headed for the school. “You sure?”

“Okay, maybe a little bit,” she said. “It’s not helping that we’re late.”

“We’re not late,” he said. “We’ve got time.”

“They’re probably already lining up.”

“No, they’re just about to start lining up.”

“Not helping, Vernon.”

They continued to the lacrosse field where the ceremony was taking place. Graduates were scattered throughout the crowd, all talking to family and friends. Their principal was trying to get their attention though, so that they could start lining up. Erica and Boyd made their way to where they were supposed to line up when Boyd saw McHale talking to his brother.

“I’ll be back in a second,” Boyd said, leaning down to kiss Erica before heading toward McHale.

“I’m still pissed at you for ditching Stiles and-!” Scott practically yelled at his brother

“Scott,” Boyd said, placing his hands on Scott’s shoulders. “We have to go line up.”

Scott turned his head to look at Boyd. “Wait a second, Boyd, I have to-.”

“Yeah, I’m not waiting for you,” Boyd said, lifting a struggling Scott up in a fireman’s hold.

He looked at Scott’s older brother. This guy was the one who had left Stiles for apparently no reason. He was the one who had left his family and friends behind for some kind of insecurities Boyd wasn’t interested in knowing.

“Enjoy the ceremony,” he said, nodding at Derek.

Boyd then walked away, still carrying a struggling and embarrassed Scott.

“Boyd, please just put me down,” Scott begged.

“I’ll put you down when we get to the ‘M’ section,” Boyd said.

Whittemore was laughing at Scott. Erica smiled into the palm of her hand while shaking her head. Boyd made it to the “M”s and put Scott down next to Mahealani, with Lahey just a few people ahead in line.

He then headed all the way to the front to where the “A”s and “B”s were. Lydia Martin and Stiles were the first two in line since they were Valedictorian and Salutatorian. They were talking with Allison and by talking “with”, he meant talking around Todd Adams who looked like he just didn’t want to be there.

“Stiles is freaking out,” Allison told him around Margaret Baker and Samantha Blevins.

“Because of his speech?” Boyd asked.

“Because of Derek,” Lydia said, her arms around Stiles who looked slightly petrified.

“I just saw him,” Boyd said.

Lydia’s face made it clear that mentioning seeing Derek was not a good idea. Allison’s look mimicked this. Stiles turned his head quickly to face Boyd.

“How’d he look?” Stiles asked. “Did he look like he always does or is he different? Did he gain or lose weight? What about his hair and his facial hair or has he grown it out and it’s a beard now and I would not be against that-.”

“Honey, have you taken your Adderall?” Allison asked.

“Yeah, I just-,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “I _miss_ him and I told him that I didn’t want to see him-.”

“Wait, you talked to him?” Lydia asked.

“I called him about the painting.”

Boyd was officially lost. He didn’t even know how to answer any of Stiles’ questions, but now he was getting lectured by Lydia and how important it was to not have a man defining one’s life.

“After graduation you are going to hug your dad and then come to dinner with all of us,” Lydia said, placing her hands on Stiles’ shoulders and looking him right in the eyes. “Then you are going to go home and change and come to my party and forget all about stupid Derek, okay?”

“Fine,” Stiles sighed.

“Boyd, you and Erica are invited to dinner and my party,” Lydia added, smiling at him from over Stiles’ shoulder.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, nodding.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Lydia said, turning back to Stiles. “You don’t deserve that stupid coward, Stiles. I’m going to set you up with some great guy or girl at my party and you’re going to lose your virginity and everything is going to be fine.”

“Lydia, I’m demisexual, you can’t just ‘set me up’ with a complete stranger-.”

“You’re losing your V-card tonight, Stilinski!” Lydia trilled, shaking Stiles’ shoulders.

“Don’t shake the baby, Lydia,” Allison said, reaching around Todd Adams to stop Lydia from giving Stiles whiplash.

Lydia backed away from Stiles just when their principal came to tell them to start the processional. They were walking in pairs and Boyd watched as Lydia patted down Stiles’ robe for any wrinkles before fixing his tie.

“What are you going to do without me in Stanford?” she asked, smoothing her hands across Stiles’ shoulders.

“Cry every night,” he shrugged.

Lydia’s mouth twitched up into a smile before she turned to face forward, standing up straight and adjusting her tassel. Lydia Martin was absolutely terrifying.

But no one knew how terrifying she could be until her party later that night. Boyd was with Erica, talking to a few people he had never talked to in his entire high school life, when Lydia got the call. She was standing with Whittemore and Allison and Scott. They were just a few feet away and her phone was on speaker, so everyone in a close distance could hear.

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Lydia asked.

“Uh, Derek and I kind of made up,” Stiles said from the other line. “I’m in my room and he’s making me food.”

“He’s making you food?” she hissed. “What is it a post-coital snack or something?”

Scott made a face at that and Allison just patted him on the back.

“No,” Stiles said. “We’re not having sex, we’re just talking and making out and watching episodes of _Classic Who_.”

“ _Classic Who_?” Lydia inquired.

“Y’know, old school _Doctor Who_ ,” Stiles said. “We’re watching the First Doctor, the special effects were terrible, but William Hartnell is awesome.”

“Stiles, sweetie, I don’t care,” she said. “I just can’t believe you got back together with him.”

“Lydia, I love him.”

Scott and Whittemore were now gagging and there was a collective sigh from everyone else, including Erica.

“Wait, who was that sighing?” Stiles asked. “Lydia, am I on speaker phone?”

“Whoops, my finger must have slipped on the button,” she said. “I’ll call you back later, boo!”

She then hung up the phone before glaring at it. For a second Boyd thought that she would throw it on the ground, but apparently she thought better of that and elected to just seethe quietly while shaking her head.

Lydia Martin was definitely terrifying, but at least Stiles was happy.

**OoOoOoO**

“I hate lesson plans,” Stiles groaned, placing his head on the table.

“They’re not supposed to be fun,” Boyd said.

“Yeah, but they _could_ be,” Stiles protested. “I’ll read the kids a book. I’ll ask the kids follow-up questions. They’ll answer the questions. Snack time. Nap time. The end.”

“All right, you turn that in and then tell me how it goes.”

“Shut up.”

Student teaching was actually fun. Boyd loved his students and the teacher he was working with was open and kind. He looked forward to planning lessons and then executing them in the classroom.

The lesson plan process was a pain in the ass though. He had to write every detail out, every single step of the process. If he was showing the kids a video, he had to explain how he turned the television on and inserted the DVD into the player.

It was all tediously exhausting.

Stiles wasn’t fairing too well either. He had enough trouble moving from Palo Alto back to Beacon Hills and then he was stuck with the worst Kindergarten teacher Boyd had ever seen. Stiles had talked about complaining to the board about her, but if he did that he could say goodbye to his career before it even really started.

They would both be certified to start teaching in the fall, so they were just trying to get through the one year of student teaching.

“I hope Hitler Lady doesn’t try taking over my lesson again,” Stiles said, sitting up straight and squinting at his notebook.

They called the teacher he was working with Hitler Lady. It wasn’t an overstatement.

“Just request another teacher.”

“And leave those kids alone with her?” Stiles asked. “No way. I’ve been with her since August and it’s March now. If I can make it this far, then it’ll work out.”

“If you say so,” Boyd said, looking back at his laptop screen.

They were in the library of Stiles’ house.

Well, that was a sentence he never thought he would think.

He had heard about the house before, but had never been in it until they started student teaching together. It was an insane house and Boyd didn’t even want to ask how they had paid for it. There had been rumors since senior year of high school, but Boyd had never listened. He just hoped that it was acquired using legal means.

“You guys still working?”

Boyd turned his head just as Stiles got out of his chair to make his way toward the door. Derek was standing there wearing glasses (and Boyd had been forced to live through way too many conversations with Stiles saying how he was secretly happy that Derek’s vision was getting bad because of how sexy the glasses made him look even though he almost always wore contacts) and looking like he was about to pass out from exhaustion.

“Yeah, we’re just finishing up,” Stiles said, taking Derek’s face in his hands.

Boyd turned back to his work. It was their house and he respected their privacy.

Even though apparently they didn’t care because they didn’t leave the room to continue their conversation.

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Stiles said. “I know this project is important, but you need to get more rest.”

“I’m going to bed now,” Derek said. “I’ll probably sleep all day tomorrow if it’ll make you happy.”

“You having a normal sleep schedule would make me happy,” Stiles said. “I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight so that I won’t wake you up in the morning.”

“And so you won’t sleep-punch me again.”

Boyd turned around at that. “He sleep-punches you?”

“I didn’t punch him!”

“Stiles, I had to put ice on it. You sleep-punched me.”

“I sleep-flailed you.”

“That wasn’t flailing, that was a deliberate punch.”

“I didn’t sleep-punch you, Derek.”

“Sounds more like you sleep-ninja’d him.”

“That term works as well.”

“Thanks for the backup, Boyd,” Stiles said, glaring at him. “I hope you two are very happy together.”

“I’m sure we will be,” Derek said, rolling his eyes before kissing Stiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Stiles mumbled.

Boyd turned back to his work once again. There were exchanges of “good night” and “I love you” from behind him before Stiles was sitting back down in front of him.

“I’m almost done with this lesson plan, but it still feels like I haven’t even started yet,” Stiles said, waking up his laptop.

“Erica’s pregnant.”

He hadn’t planned on telling Stiles that way, but it was a little too late for that now. Stiles gaped at him for a few seconds before grinning and leaning across the table, giving Boyd an awkward hug.

“Congratulations, dude, that’s awesome!”

“Thanks, man,” Boyd said, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face.

They had already told their families and close friends, so this wasn’t the first time it had been spoken of. Stiles had a way of making everything exciting though. It was probably all of the energy.

“When is she due?” Stiles asked, recoiling from Boyd and leaning back against his chair.

“December 1st.”

“That’s so great,” Stiles said, still smiling. “I know you guys have been talking about kids for a while.”

They were both only 23, but they had been married for over a year and engaged for much longer than that. Kids were always something that Erica wanted since she was an only child. Boyd came from a big family and already had a few nieces and nephews, but he was surprisingly ready for his own kids.

It was probably all of those child psychology classes he had been required to take for his undergrad.

“Yeah, we’re both in good places financially and we’ve been looking into houses,” Boyd said. “It just feels like the right time.”

“No, yeah, that’s great,” Stiles nodded. “Give her my congratulations.”

“Will do,” Boyd assured. “So, uh, have you and Derek talked about kids? I know that you don’t turn 23 until next month, but he’s almost 30, right?”

“Um, yeah,” Stiles confirmed, all enthusiasm practically gone. “His birthday is in November and… he doesn’t even want to get married, so I think kids are pretty out of the question.”

“He doesn’t want to marry you?”

“Well, he doesn’t see the point of marriage,” Stiles shrugged. “Which is… kind of extremely shitty, but I’m fine with that. It’s just, I’ve tried bringing up kids before but he always changes the subject. I want to be a dad, and not to toot my own horn or anything, but I think I could be a great dad. Derek could be a great dad too, but I just think he’s… I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but Derek’s dad left when he was really young and from what he’s told me he didn’t seem like a good dad to begin with.”

“You think that Derek thinks that he’s going to end up being like his father?” Boyd asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “I’ve tried talking to his mom about it and she says that there are parts of his dad in him, but… Aw, man, I’m sorry. You just shared some awesome news with me and I’m rambling about my own problems. Hell, they’re not even my problems.”

“Sure they are,” Boyd nodded. “Derek’s your partner; they’re your problems just as much as they are his.”

“I don’t know about that,” Stiles said. “But thanks.”

**OoOoOoO**

“They are going to love you,” Erica said, adjusting his tie. “Absolutely adore you.”

“What makes you so sure?” Boyd asked, smoothing a hand over her pregnant stomach.

“Because you’re you,” she said, placing her hands on his chest. “It’s your first parent-teacher conference day, so I get why you’re nervous. Don’t be though, your students love you and I’m sure the parents will as well.”

“Well if you say so.”

“Of course I say so.”

He smiled before leaning down to claim her lips with his. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes you will,” she said, smiling against his mouth. “Good luck.”

Boyd stole one more kiss before leaving their apartment. He was just a couple of months into his first year of official teaching. It was pretty hard to handle at first, but he got used to it quickly. His classroom was right next to Stiles’ and sometimes they traded classes for different things.

Stiles would usually take the kids over for story time while Boyd would introduce a new art project. It was a partnership that he was happy to have. He was also happy to not eat lunch alone in the teachers’ lounge every day.

The conferences went really well. All of the parents were kind with plenty of good questions. A lot of them were concerned that Boyd was so young, but after a few minutes of talking about their child and the curriculum, all worries seemed to fade away.

Many of the parents saw his wedding ring and then asked questions about his wife. He had picture frames on his desk, so he happily showed them pictures of their wedding and recent ones of a glowing, happily pregnant Erica. The mothers would always gush and the fathers would jokingly tell him that it was too late to back out since there was a baby on the way.

The last conference of the day was going to be a conference for both him and Stiles. They each had a twin and their parents wanted to do the conference together. Charlie and Michael Hastings were two twins that both Stiles and Boyd had been warned about. Boyd got Michael who was definitely the quieter of the two, but he was still mischievous beyond belief. Stiles was stuck with Charlie who was the louder, more rambunctious of the two.

 It only took both of them a week to learn how to tame the twins, much to the surprise of the rest of the faculty.

“Last one.”

Boyd looked up to see Stiles pushing his desk chair into Boyd’s classroom.

“Why don’t you just take a chair from one of the tables?” Boyd asked, rolling his chair over to make room for Stiles behind his desk.

“You get a nice chair and I get a hard, plastic one that’s intended for five year-olds?” Stiles asked, sitting down in his chair and dropping his notebook on the desk. “I don’t think so. They’re going to come in here and look at the two of us and peg you for the more professional right off the bat.”

“Is that why you’re wearing a blazer?” Boyd asked.

“Oh shut up,” Stiles said. “You’re looking pretty snazzy in your vest.”

“Who asked you, Stilinski?”

Stiles was probably about to crack a joke when a man and woman entered the classroom. They were both well-dressed and Boyd immediately felt underdressed. Stiles appeared to be feeling the same way since he quickly buttoned his blazer and straightened his tie.

“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Hastings,” Stiles said, standing up and outstretching his hand when they reached the front of the desk. “I’m Stiles Stilinski, Charlie’s teacher.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Mrs. Hastings said, shaking Stiles’ hand after her husband did. “We’ve heard wonderful things.”

“I’m Vernon Boyd, Michael’s teacher,” Boyd said, also standing up and shaking hands.

After everyone was acquainted and sitting back down, Boyd was ready to ask the first of his standard questions when Mr. Hastings spoke up.

“So, Mr. Stilinski, I heard that you attended Stanford for your undergrad,” he said.

“Yeah, class of 2017,” Stiles said, smiling.

“Why come to Beacon Hills?”

“Well, I’m from here,” Stiles shrugged. “All of my friends and family are here and it just… feels like home.”

“I have to say that we’re very impressed,” Mrs. Hastings said. “Charlie has been so well behaved after being put into your class. We were worried when we heard that it was your first year teaching, but his behavior has improved so much.”

“He’s a really good kid,” Stiles said. “I’m happy to have him in my class.”

“We’re happy too,” Mr. Hastings said. “Happy about Michael as well. I feel like he’s really starting to come into his own. He used to want to follow Charlie everywhere, but now that they’re apart I feel like he’s finally starting to become his own person.”

“Definitely,” Boyd nodded. “The first few weeks I could tell that he was upset by being apart from his brother, but he caught onto his independence pretty quickly.”

It turned out that Boyd didn’t even need his notes. The Hastings were a wealthy family that had just moved to Beacon Hills at the beginning of the summer. They were good people and had obviously done their research.

The conference ended ten minutes before the appointed time. Boyd was about to thank them for coming in when Mrs. Hastings’ eyes zoomed in on his wedding band. He was already reaching to the picture of their wedding before she got a word out.

“How long have you been married?” she asked, taking the picture frame from him and smiling at the photo.

“Two years in January,” Boyd said, smiling. “We’re expecting twins in less than a month.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Hastings gushed. “You two make such a beautiful couple.”

“You’re a lucky man, Vernon,” Mr. Hastings said, also looking at the photo.

“I’m well aware,” Boyd said, taking the picture back.

The Hastings then turned to Stiles who had zoned out, picking at a loose strand on his blazer.

“Stiles, are you married?” Mr. Hastings asked.

Stiles looked up at the couple before looking at Boyd and then at the clock on the wall. Boyd wondered when he had started zoning out.

“Sorry, what?” he asked.

Mrs. Hastings chuckled, repeating her husband’s question. “Are you married?”

“I will be on June 26th of next year,” Stiles said, smiling widely.

This was news to Boyd. Not the wedding, but the date being decided. “You guys finally picked a date?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said.

“A June wedding, that’s lovely,” Mrs. Hastings said. “Congratulations to you and your future wife.”

“Husband,” Stiles corrected.

“I’m sorry?” Mrs. Hastings asked.

“Future husband,” Stiles said. “I could call Derek my future wife, but I don’t think that he would be too happy about that.”

That was the exact moment that Boyd saw all of the respect and admiration the Hastings had for Stiles leave. Mr. Hastings’ face turned into a cold stare while Mrs. Hastings just looked uncomfortable.

“Oh, well, okay,” Mrs. Hastings said, quickly standing up. “Well it was nice to meet both of you.”

“It was great to meet you as well,” Stiles said, standing up as well.

They both shook Boyd’s hand, but just nodded at Stiles before quickly walking out of the door. Boyd wasn’t sure if Stiles understood what had happened, but he clapped a hand on Stiles’ back.

“We made it through our first conference day,” Boyd said, trying for a happy tone.

“Yeah,” Stiles said absently, looking at the door.

The next day Boyd entered his classroom to see that Charlie Hastings had been added to his class roster. He told Stiles at lunch but he just shrugged like it was no big deal. Boyd could tell that it was bothering him (and it was bothering the hell out of him too. Especially since Charlie Hastings had tried to make his way back more than once to Stiles’ classroom.).

Stiles was putting up a good front though. It wasn’t until after school that day that he went to visit Stiles before he headed home. He had taken just a couple of steps into Stiles’ classroom when he saw Derek standing there with his arms around Stiles.

“Some people are always going to be close-minded assholes,” Derek said, pressing his lips against Stiles’ temple.

“I know,” Stiles said and Boyd tried to ignore the fact that it sounded like he had been crying. “But you should have seen them Derek. They were so impressed with Stanford and all of the progress I had made with Charlie, but as soon as they found out I’m marrying a man they just… they just looked at me like I wasn’t even human. He wouldn’t even shake my hand.”

“They’re idiots,” Derek said. “I feel bad for their kids, but there’s nothing you can do. It doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person or a bad teacher, they’re just set in their ways.”

Boyd left the classroom. He’d talk to Stiles about it tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> [Why June 26th is the wedding date.](http://erinpond.tumblr.com/post/25950706274/happy-anniversary-to-the-ponds-26-6-10)
> 
> I also really encourage anyone to read Toni Morrison's novel, _Beloved_ , if you're looking for a good read. It's insanely incredible and the perfect novel to use if you have to write an analysis on any kind of literary topic.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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